


you're a flame in my heart

by soperiso



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Comicverse), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Peter Parker, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hanahaki Disease, Happy Ending, Hurt Peter Parker, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, Idiots in Love, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Poor Peter Parker, Sad with a Happy Ending, Secret Identity, Spider-Man Identity Reveal, Unrequited Love, alllllll the tags, eventually, gahh i love them, spideytorch - Freeform, this is such a niche fic that the tags are necessary or else no one will see this lmao, you already know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24423871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soperiso/pseuds/soperiso
Summary: Peter would give anything to make it stop. Not his feelings for Johnny, but the anguish that comes with knowing that Johnny doesn’t love him back.Or, the very first spideytorch hanahaki fic.Rated T for a few swear words here and there, as well as some mild descriptions of the usual stuff that comes with this disease.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Mary Jane Watson, Peter Parker/Johnny Storm
Comments: 22
Kudos: 246





	you're a flame in my heart

**Author's Note:**

> a million thanks to andy (@A_Z_Knight) for beta'ing this!
> 
> i hope you guys like it!

Peter doesn’t remember exactly when it started, he only knows that he hasn’t been able to forget it since.

They’re at the usual place: the top of the Statue of Liberty. The sun is setting over the city, bathing Peter and Johnny in a blend of oranges and pinks. A light breeze blows warm air through Johnny’s hair. Peter wonders what that would feel like. Not only the wind, but to be unmasked and truly himself. He knows why he can’t tell Johnny who he is—well, he did at one point. He finds it harder to convince himself that it’s necessary every day.

Peter laughs at something Johnny’s saying, Johnny’s arms gesticulating wildly. 

“You should’ve seen it, Pete! I swear, it was ridiculous.”

“I’m sure.” Peter says, grinning. 

The longer he looks at Johnny, the harder it gets to look away. Looking at him, being with him… God, it’s more than Peter could’ve ever hoped for. He remembers the first time they’d met, when he’d tried to join the Fantastic Four by breaking into their house and beating them up. Yeah, not his finest moment. He still gets embarrassed thinking about it. But Johnny had forgiven him, he’d given him another chance. He wasn’t a part of the Four, no, but this is just as good, if not better. Johnny is kind. Johnny is funny. He’s smart, in his own way. He might not have as much brainpower as Reed, but who does, really? He’s got common sense, which is more than Peter can say about himself. He’s beautiful, too. His golden hair that looks as though it was taken from the sun’s rays and strung into something solid and shimmering. His eyes that look like the ripple a raindrop creates as it falls upon the surface of a bottomless lake.

Peter is helplessly, entirely in love with him.

An itch starts to build in Peter’s chest, worsening with each breath he takes.

Peter stands up hastily, backing away from Johnny as though the itch will go away if he puts enough distance between them, “Sorry, Johnny. I’ve. Um, I’ve got a thing that I forgot about. I have to go.”

Johnny’s eyebrows furrow and he looks up at Peter, lips turning down slightly, “Oh, okay. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, um.” Peter pokes a thumb at the city, bright and alive beneath them. “Bye.” He runs towards the edge of the crown and leaps off, catching himself on a nearby skyscraper and swinging through the maze of buildings until he reaches his shoebox apartment. 

He climbs in through the window and stumbles into the bathroom, coughing. He gags over the sink, gripping onto it hard enough to feel it break under his fingers. He gasps for air, “My landlord’s—” he coughs, “—gonna  _ kill  _ me.” He feels something creep up his throat, making it even harder to breathe. On the next cough, air isn’t the only thing that comes up; a single red camellia that mocks Peter and his pain with its beauty rises from the depths of his love for Johnny. 

Peter would give anything to make it stop. Not his feelings for Johnny, but the anguish that comes with knowing that Johnny doesn’t love him back.

🕸🕷🕸

The one good thing about this whole ‘issue’ is that Peter doesn’t need to undergo any major lifestyle changes. Thank you, spider powers. His healing factor takes care of any damage before it can become fatal. He has to leave places unexpectedly, sometimes, but that’s not any different from his usual life. His friends know, because of course they do. Sometimes, he catches Gwen looking at him with sad eyes, but she never says anything. He appreciates that. They feel bad for him, he knows they do, but they don’t treat him like he’s made of glass. They’ve all been through it at one point or another. 

So, when he starts coughing while they’re all spread out in Gwen’s apartment, nobody is surprised. He quietly excuses himself and dashes to the bathroom. He’s not getting blood on Gwen’s hardwood floor, no siree.

His hearing picks up on the  _ click click  _ of MJ’s heels as she strides down the hall while he tries not to empty his internal organs into the sink. She slowly opens the door a bit and pokes her head through the space between the door and the wall.

“Hey, MJ” he croaks, then winces as the action pains his raw throat.

“Hey, Tiger.” she murmurs, “How’re you holding up?”

“Never been better.”

She laughs breathily, more a puff of air than an actual laugh. “I’m sure.” 

She steps into the room and begins to lightly massage Peter’s back. He hums in gratitude. 

“Does he know?” She asks.

“God, I hope not.” He pauses to cough, “’d feel so guilty. Don’t want him tryin’ to force ‘imself to love me, since he ‘bviously doesn’.”

“So, what? You’re just going to keep going on like this until you die?”

“‘M not gonna die. ’ve got a healing fact’r.”

“And what happens when that’s not enough anymore? When it gets too strong for your powers to save you from?”

Peter puts his head in his hands, “I don’–” He breaks off as he starts coughing violently, gagging and shaking as he coughs up multiple of those damn camellias, red as his blood. Or maybe they’re just covered in his blood. He doesn’t know anymore.

MJ closes her eyes, but continues rubbing his back.

“How’d you get through it?” He asks her, his voice breaking.

“I got the surgery.”

Peter’s thought about doing that. Just… making it go away. He doesn’t remember what it felt like to  _ not  _ be entirely in love with Johnny. He doesn’t think he wants to remember. 

“D’you ever regret it?” He asks.

“Sometimes I wonder what we could’ve had. But, at the end of the day, I’d rather be alive.”

“Hear hear.”

MJ pats him on the back. “Are you good now? Or are there more?”

“I think ’m good.”

“Ok, up you go, then.” She hoists him up by his elbow. “Let’s go back to the others, yeah?”

“Sounds good.”

Gwen smiles softly at him as he enters the room. Harry salutes him with two fingers. 

Peter lets out a puff of air that he didn’t know he’d been holding.

🕸🕷🕸

Peter dodges another one of Otto’s arms. “That all you got?” He taunts.

Otto grumbles something about “asshole spiders” and pins Peter to the side of the alleyway. “Not so high and mighty now, are we, Spider-Man?” He drags Peter across the wall and throws him into a nearby dumpster.

Peter shoots a web and pulls himself out of it, using his free hand to wipe trash off of his suit. Ugh, gross. He shoots another web at the dumpster and sends it careening into Dr. Octopus. The man goes flying back and lands with a resounding  _ thud _ on the street. 

Otto quickly shoots out from the mess that used to be a dumpster and hurls an SUV at Peter, who catches it and throws it right back at him. Peter deftly dodges Otto’s outstretching limbs, flipping through the air in a way that would make an Olympic gymnast jealous.

All of a sudden, his throat  _ burns _ . 

He falls to the ground and quickly pulls his mask up to his nose. Peter is immediately grabbed by Otto, who holds him up in the air as he writhes and wheezes.

“What’s your deal?” Otto mocks in a high pitch that Peter assumes is a poor imitation of him, “Catch a common cold?”

Peter doesn’t respond. Normally he got some sort of warning and was able to wrap up a fight before coughing his lungs out, damn it! This time was weird—it’s like he just jumped right into the worst of it. He was utterly helpless against Otto. 

Red petals make their way out of Peter’s mouth and onto Otto’s arms. Otto’s mouth opens in surprise.

“So, the itty bitty spider is unloved, eh? Heartbroken, destined to die alone!” He says, gleefully. “I can’t say I’m surprised. I  _ am _ grateful, though. This makes it all the easier to kill you, once and for all. You’re alone and hopeless, aren’t you? No one there to swoop in and save the day. Ha! How unfortunate for you.”

As Otto speaks, Peter coughs out the last of this batch of flowers. What a picture they must make: Peter’s bloody chin and red eyes, flowers strewn across Otto’s arms. He can just see the headlines now:  _ Spider-Man in Unrequited Love with Doctor Octopus!  _ He really hopes he doesn’t wake up to that next morning; that would be the icing on this unbelievably garbage cake.    
  


He tries to tune out Otto, but he can’t. Sometimes, he hates his super-hearing. He knows better than to let Otto’s words hurt him. He knows, damn it! He can normally ignore all of the hateful things he says; most of them aren’t true. This one, though. This one is true. He feels tears gather in his eyes. He really is unloved. Johnny doesn’t love him. If he did, Peter wouldn’t be in this mess! He has no one. He has  _ no one _ . 

The part of the mask that is still covering his face grows wet with his tears. Peter feels a growing sense of unbridled anger begin to build in his chest. How dare Otto make fun of this, of all things? Doesn’t he know when to stop? He’s angry at Otto and he’s livid with Johnny for not loving him back. But most of all? He utterly _loathes_ himself for loving someone who will never love him back. Anyone else, and he wouldn’t worry about getting the surgery. He’d have it done and get this whole mess over with before it even had a chance to start. 

Johnny, though, he just can’t remove his love for Johnny.

Maybe it’s irrational. It’s definitely stupid. Peter doesn’t care. He just wants Johnny to look at him like he looks at Johnny: like he hung the moon, the stars, and every single planet in the sky.

It’s his anger that saves him from Otto. He lets the bowl-cut bastard feel every ounce of his rage as he breaks through the arms that are gripping him, using the building behind Otto’s wide eyes for leverage as he slingshots himself directly into Otto’s head so fast that Otto doesn’t have time to stop him. He’s out cold before he can even lift a finger. Peter feels grim satisfaction in the  _ thunk _ his head makes against the asphalt as he falls backwards.

Peter webs him to the ground and makes a quick escape. He doesn’t need to start sobbing in front of a bunch of shocked New Yorkers who already have their phones out. Great, now the whole world will know about his… condition. Oh, God.  _ Johnny  _ will know about it. That man doesn’t miss anything that happens; he’s Peter’s main gossip source. Peter has no clue what he’ll say to Johnny when he inevitably asks him about it.

🕸🕷🕸

Not even a day later and Peter’s already staring up at the bright and flaming “ _ Meet me at the usual place” _ that’s impossible to miss. Peter almost ignores it—he really does—but he finds himself swinging to the Statue of Liberty before he knows it. 

Peter wonders if Johnny will ever speak to him again after this. Ironically, Peter’s never been good at lying. He’ll end up telling Johnny the truth, and Johnny. Yikes. Johnny will not take it well. He’ll try to hide it, but Peter will be able to tell. He can always tell, with Johnny. 

Peter lands on the crown to find Johnny already there, waiting for him. He looks… confused? Of all the things he expected Johnny to be, confused was not one of them. 

Peter looks at a spot over Johnny’s shoulder. “Um… Hey?”

“Why do you have Hanahaki?”

Oh, wow. Right to the point, there. 

“Excuse me?”

“You shouldn’t have Hanahaki. I don’t have Hanahaki.” Johnny’s stance is rigid, tense.

He almost looks… scared?

“It’s not exactly contagious.”

“I know that. I just–” Johnny pauses, taking a deep breath and shoving his hands into his pockets.

“What?” Peter steps closer to Johnny, who takes a step back.

“I always assumed that you loved me.”

Peter freezes.

Johnny continues, looking anywhere but at Peter, “I mean, I don’t have Hanahaki, and I… I love you. So. I thought that meant you loved me back. Guess I was wrong.”

Johnny loves him? Johnny  _ loves  _ him? Peter doesn’t know what to think, what to say, what to do… Why on Earth would Peter have Hanahaki if Johnny loved him? Wasn’t that the whole point of the disease? To only appear if someone was in unrequited love? Was it that Johnny didn’t love him enough? Was it just lust? No, Johnny would know the difference. But would he? Peter feels like he doesn’t know anything anymore. He especially doesn’t know why Johnny would keep something like that to himself. He’s always been so open about his love for people. 

Peter looks Johnny in the eye, “If you thought we loved each other, why didn’t you say anything?”

Johnny takes his hands out of his pockets and throws them in the air, “I don’t know! I was waiting for you to reveal your identity, I guess.” His brow furrows, “I thought that I should wait until you had that level of trust in me. I didn’t want to force you into anything.”

Identity? Holy shit. Identity. Identity!

Peter lifts a hand to the side of his face, lightly touching his mask before letting it fall back to his side, “But Johnny, I do love you. I have since… well, forever, really.”

Johnny looks even more confused, somehow. Peter had thought that he reached max confusion five minutes ago.

“What? This makes no sense.” says Johnny, running a harsh hand through his hair.

Peter takes another step towards him. “I think I know why I have this disease. I’ve known who you were since day one. I fell in love with Johnny Storm.  _ All _ of you. You don’t know who I am, not really. You know me, but you don’t know the me under the mask. You fell in love with Spider-Man. You’ve yet to fall in love with the person behind him.”

Peter pauses, fingers trembling as he reaches for the edge of his mask. He grasps it and begins tugging it upward. He feels the warm summer air hit his chin, then his nose. He hesitates for a millisecond before tearing it fully off. In for a penny, in for a pound, right? 

“Hi, my name is Peter Parker.”

Johnny just stares. Peter begins to fidget under his unwavering gaze.

“You’re– Wow, you’re beautiful.” Johnny reaches out to place a gentle hand on the edge of Peter’s jaw.

Peter’s breath hitches, and that’s when he notices: his breath is normal. It doesn’t hurt to breathe.

“Johnny, I– I don’t think I…” He takes a huge, experimental inhale, “Holy shit, I can breathe.” Peter grins at Johnny, relief etched upon every inch of his face.

“Does that mean you’re cured?” Johnny smiles, and the whole universe of stars light up in his eyes. 

Peter could get lost in them, and he wouldn’t mind one bit.

“Yes! Man, that’s a whole new meaning to ‘love at first sight’.” Peter chuckles, the tension he’d kept within him since the first flower he’d coughed up melting away under Johnny’s blazing gaze.

Johnny smiles wistfully, “I wish it could’ve happened sooner.”

“Me too, I... I thought you didn’t love me. _That_ _sucked_.”

Johnny eyes the piece of red and blue fabric that is still clutched in Peter’s hand. “I was in love with a mask. God, Pete. You, you’re so much more than a mask. You’re everything I didn’t know I wanted. I’m so sorry that I didn’t tell you that sooner.”

If Peter’s everything Johnny didn’t know he wanted, then Johnny’s everything Peter spent months dreaming of. He’s the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. He himself is gold. It’s in his hair, his skin, his fire. Everything about him is gold. The way he effortlessly makes Peter laugh until his ribs hurt. The way he is always there for Peter, no matter what. Peter knows him. He knows him to his core and he  _ loves  _ him. He’s infinitely glad that he never got the surgery. He never wants to live without this feeling. 

“You couldn’t have, really.” he says.

“I know, but it doesn’t change the fact that I wish I had, so I’ll tell you now and forever,” Johnny takes a step closer to him, breaking an invisible boundary, “I love you, Peter Parker.”

Peter closes his eyes and just lets the feeling wash over him; the feeling of finally,  _ finally _ getting the one thing he’d been craving forever and being able to be free with his feelings: “I love you too. I love you so, so much. I love you to the moon and back. Actually, scratch that, I love you to the ends of the universe and back.”

“But the universe has no end-”

“Exactly.”

Johnny smiles, his eyes crinkling up at the corners, “You nerd. You adorable, beautiful nerd.”

Peter traces Johnny’s cheekbone with his thumb, “Can I do something that I’ve been waiting forever to do?”

“By all means, go ahead.”

Holding the back of Johnny’s head, Peter threads his fingers through his hair and brings Johnny’s lips to his own. There’s no desperation or battle for dominance. They know that they have the rest of their lives to continue doing this.

And neither of them could be happier about it.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading!
> 
> come hang out with me on [tumblr!](https://soperiso.tumblr.com)


End file.
